I Lost a Bet So Now I Have to Write Prideshipping
by GBlackwell
Summary: Exactly what it says in the title, because I suck at card games. KaibaxYami Yugi. What's the story about? Well, it involves an A.I., simulated duels, a plot-hole ridden story line, our favorite card-playing billionaire, a little of his spiky-haired rival, a Mokuba kidnapping, real-person fanfiction, and sleep deprivation. Also, this is not parody or humor... weirdly enough.


**To Caitlin: Well, here's it is. The story you requested as per our bet. I hope you're happy with the result.**

**To any other unfortunate reader who's clicked on this story: OK, so I normally don't write this sort of thing. I tend to stay away from romance in general, and slash romance in particular baffles me in most cases, since the most popular male/male pairings seem to be people that show no attraction to each other and would never speak of it even if they did. Or at least, that's my usual perspective on it. I have read some good yaoi, but even when the story itself is good it always seems to me like the characters are different people than they were in the regular show.**

**So… normally I wouldn't be writing this. But, I made a bet with a friend of mine, Caitlin. And, unfortunately (or fortunately, if this is your thing), I suck at card games, so I lost. And now I have to write a Prideshipping story.**

**I started out writing a humorous story, but she requested a serious one so I switched the tones. What you have here is a mess of a story that isn't funny enough to be humor and is too ridiculous to be serious. I try to keep everyone in character, but… not sure if I succeeded. Plus, it's not very romantic. Oh trust me, the pairing is there, but I suck at making things romantic. I did my best though.**

**I think I'd put down the genre as: Sci-fi/Romance/Angst/Humor/Psychological/Suspense/Hurt/Comfort... maybe? Actually, I have no idea what genre this story really is. Someone please tell me? Help?**

**I really hope someone enjoys this, because it was a bitch to write and I'm pretty sure it sucks. **

**Further note: I refer to the Pharoah/Yami as "Yugi" in this because that's how Kaiba thinks of him, but it should be pretty obvious when it's not Yugi.**

* * *

**Day 1**

Yugi Moto. Baby-faced and cheerful at school; bold and intelligent the instant he stepped into a dueling ring. Kaiba's memory was nothing if not eidetic, and he could replay the switch in his mind a thousand times and the image never seemed to diminish. The innocuous features twisting into a confident smirk, the footsteps morphed into a stride of power.

Details had a way of getting engraved in his thoughts, particularly if they concerned the only one who'd ever beaten him at his own game. So now he felt inclined to frown at the screen, however detailed the pixels.

"_You'll never win, Kaiba."_

"_I think you'll find I already have, Yugi."_

The hair whipped through his rival's spikes as he drew another card, slamming it on the field as that familiar smirk lifted over his features—the one that Kaiba recognized as the look he wore the second he'd pulled out a trump card. For a moment, he found a smile pulling at the corners of his own lips. It didn't last.

"Stop the simulation," he ordered.

Immediately "Yugi" froze, along with the "Kaiba" that had been set up as his opponent.

"_What seems to be the matter, Master Kaiba?"_

He frowned. "It's exactly the same as the last simulation you ran."

The image on the computer stayed frozen. "_You'll find that the cards chosen and played on both sides are completely different from the last simulation, selected completely at random to ensure a realistic copy of the probability involved in an actual duel…"_

"That's not what I meant," he snapped. He massaged his forehead, allowing himself one gesture of exasperation. "Your simulation of Yugi is using the exact same gestures and conversation that he… it did last time."

"_Correct."_

"Fix that."

"_Please elaborate."_

He growled. "Repeating the same gestures and phrases from his is useless for the purposes of the simulation."

"_Does not compute. Please use different phrasing to express your complaint." _

He didn't bother wasting time explaining. Instead, he ordered, "Search for video footage of every duel we've ever had." He thought for a moment, and added, "And search for any info you can find of Yugi as well. If you can't re-create his personality, then you're worthless for the purposes of simulating the decisions he'd make. Have every detail of his mannerisms and characteristics down by tomorrow."

"_I understand. Searching web data… the process may take several hours."_

The images of the duel flipped off, to be replaced with a blue screen with the words "Processing." Kaiba's eyes stayed on the screen for a moment and then he was out the door.

* * *

**Day 2**

He called in Dr. Himemiya the next day with half a mind to terminate the program. His irritation seemed unfounded once they ran a couple of tests. The program had managed to grasp the concept that the duelists it was designed to simulate would not make the same speeches every time. No human being—however much of a broken record they were on such subjects as "friendship" and "believing in the heart of the cards"—was quite as repetitive as the computer had been portraying. Still, he frowned.

"Better," he said, "But still far from the standard I was hoping for."

The Aritifical Intelligence expert smiled. "'Ai' has only been operational for two days," she told him demurely. "I think you'll find that she's a quick learner. After all, you've given her only one purpose, haven't you? She should be analyzing more personality data as we speak."

He scoffed at the scientist's use of female pronouns to refer to the machine. Still, he silently nodded. The simulations had noticeably improved since yesterday and seemed to get better with each new run. He turned back to the screen and watched the new duel play out. For a moment—just a moment—his eyes turned to the digital Yugi's hands and he held his breath. The simulation's wrist snapped up a trap card with all the relaxed power he remembered in the authentic version. "Ai," as Himemiya had dubbed the program, had managed to correct the formerly staid gesture as he watched. Suddenly the cards were dancing in his fingers; "Yugi" became realer with each new card.

He was drawn from the sight by the sound of the scientist's gentle chuckle. "I take it you'll want to give it a little more time? Or do you want me to dismantle the program?"

"We'll give it more time."

* * *

**Day 3**

His day was scheduled to the brink with important business, so didn't have much time to examine the program. When he did, though, he was blown away.

It _was _Yugi, not just because of the realistic rendering of skin, hair, and clothing texture, but _everything. _Each movement was him, and yet new, not something that had been copied from a previous duel. It was as though his rival had gained a separate presence within the screen, like he was living out his life somewhere in there.

"_So confident, eh Kaiba? Forgotten all the other times I've won?"_

He actually found himself opening his mouth to retort before realizing how silly the idea was. Then he shut his mouth, glad that no one else was in the room to catch him nearly making a fool of himself.

The on-screen Yugi practically seemed to be eyeing him through the screen, though Kaiba ignored it until "Yugi" winked and gave him a playful thumbs up.

He drew back. "Stop the simulation."

The screen froze. _"What seems to be the problem, Master Kaiba?"_

"What was that about?"

"_Does not compute. What was what about?"_

He scowled. "You made him wink at me. Through the screen."

"_Correct."_

He tried to vocalize what exactly was wrong with that, struggling to find a way to express it to a computer. He didn't manage, so he just asked, "Why?"

"_Does not compute. Please repeat the question with different phrasing."_

He growled. "That's enough for today. Stop the simulations until tomorrow."

"_Understood."_

* * *

**Day 4**

"It did what?"

He sighed. "Do you need your ears checked, doctor? I just said it had the simulation… wink at me."

The complaint sounded weak even to his own ears. Dr. Himemiya chuckled over the phone. "Oh, I don't think that's anything to be worried about. You see, my team programs a… sense of humor, shall we say, in all our programs. The components we devised likely have some of that."

"What?" he asked, "Why? What purpose does it serve?"

"It makes the A.I. more pleasant for humans to interact with."

He seriously felt like hitting something. "And why is that such a concern?"

"To make people like our product, of course. Why do you think people offer i-Phones in different colors? It's not necessary for the product's actual use, but it makes the customer's experience with the product more personal and enjoyable."

"Well de-program it now. That wasn't funny; that was…" he struggled to think of a word for it. _Wrong. Creepy. Bothersome. Uncanny. Disturbingly real. _"Not appropriate."

"I don't think de-programming the humor aspect would be a good idea. It's possible, but it would likely leave the program unable to simulate similar features in the personality you're trying to re-create."

He grumbled.

"You can just specifically tell the computer to cease similar attempts at humor. She'll obey. If you're still having trouble, I can come over tomorrow and fix up her programming a bit."

"Fine," he said.

He gave the order to the computer: "Computer, remember what you did last night?"

"_I recall I ran over 300 duel simulations and have downloaded information on human psychology…"_

He could swear the computer was trying to be difficult. "I was referring to… when you had the simulation wink at me."

"_I remember. What do you request?"_

"Never do that again."

"_Understood. I will never have the simulated Yugi Moto wink at you again."_

He grumbled again. The phrasing convinced him that the program would cause another problem in the future. Still, he forgot his objections and let the next simulation play.

* * *

**Day 5**

He listened to the female voice rattle off probabilities and explain the ratio of scenarios where his deck would provide opportunity for his victory against Yugi Moto and vice versa for a moment before rubbing his eyes blearily. They felt dried and parched from the all the artificial light that basked the room. He'd lost sleep the night before while completing the designs for the newest Duel Disk prototypes, and it certainly didn't help his concentration on all the dueling strategy analysis that "Ai" was rattling off.

"_Master Kaiba, do you need me to repeat any of the information?"_

"Hm," he replied.

"_Does not compute. Please rephrase your response so that…"_

"Shut up."

The computer gave no response, obeying. He thought for a moment. The program was progressing beautifully. He needed to think of a test to see if the "Yugi" personality was a perfect match with its realistic counterpart. A few different scenarios ran through his mind. He could have the boy's cheerleaders come in and face it, see if they could tell the difference. It was the dueling style that was important, being able to recreate the decisions his rival would make, but his relationship to his friends was tied down to that, so…

His mind wandered. He could think of something another day. "Play another simulation, computer."

The computer obeyed without a word, and he realized that the program was taking his command to "shut up" rather literally. He didn't complain, though he realized later that he'd probably have to ask the A.I. to clarify something later. Luckily for now all he had to do was watch the newest simulated duel.

It was perfect, so much so that he found himself waking up as he watched. He thought ahead to when the program would be perfected and tested, when he'd match his own wits against the "Yugi" there.

"_When will you understand that you'll never win so long as you cling to these illusions of power?"_

"_Let's see how illusory you find them when they've destroyed your life points."_

"_Kaiba, true strength doesn't come from superior attack force. It comes from the bonds between human beings, the bonds that allow us to bolster our strength through each other."_

"_Do you actually have a card that will take down my Blue Eyes, or are you just prattling on because you've run out of luck?"_

"_I want you to learn. You could be so much more if you let go of your bitterness and opened up to another."_

Kaiba watched the screen. "Yugi's" face had suddenly softened, showing a look of fondness that rarely surfaced when he was dueling. He frowned, thinking to stop the computer and tell them that its simulation was in error. Yet… he'd seen that look before, hadn't he? He could not remember exactly when, just that it was familiar enough to let pass.

"_If anything," _"Yugi" continued, _"Allowing yourself some normal relationships might bring your ridiculous obsession with me under control."_

Kaiba blinked, unsure of what he was hearing.

"_My 'obsession' with you?" _his computer counterpart snapped.

"_Why, yes," _His digital rival's face regained its smug, taunting look. _"Downloading every footage of me ever caught on camera? Designing an A.I. to recreate my every mannerism for your eyes alone? Really, what else would you call that? Unless I'm mistaken about the definition of 'obsession.'"_

"_Yugi…"_

"_Really, if you like what you see so much perhaps you should just ask me out. Isn't that the normal way people of your time go about these things?"_

Kaiba choked.

"_Stop stalling and play your damn card!"_

"_Oh, did I offend you? I'm hurt. Do you really consider me so unappealing?" _the simulated Yugi purred, _"I could certainly show you a good time… if you're interested."_

He practically fell out of his chair. "Stop the simulation!"

It stopped.

"What," he growled, "Was that?"

He could suddenly feel the heat of the room. It was supposed to be kept cool to prevent the equipment from overheating, but suddenly it seemed stuffy.

"_That was the simulation you requested, Master Kaiba."_

"No, I meant that… that…" he threw up his hands in frustration. "Never mind. Shut down for the day."

"_Yes, Master Kaiba."_

* * *

**Day 6**

After another nearly sleepless night, he worked through the day and mentally ran through his options with the "Ai" program. He considered calling Dr. Himemiya, but if he did—he realized—he'd have to actually explain what had happened, a thought that left a bad taste in his mouth. So instead he decided to search the program's databases himself to find where the error was. He succeeded when he ordered the computer to show him its search and download history, starting from when he'd ordered it to search the internet for information on Yugi from day 1.

Among all the information he'd expected (articles, interviews, video footage of past duels) and things that Himemiya had informed him the computer would search out naturally due to its programmed desire for learning about the human psyche (Texts on human psychology, with an odd amount of the titles focused on "intimate relationships") he encountered several "fan forums" that the A.I. had entered.

(He also saw some curious articles and downloaded programs about computer and security systems and the art of hacking them—something he should have paid more attention to in hindsight.)

Under the username "LoveCRAFT45" his program had created accounts on practically every fan forum of his and Yugi's. He read through the messages.

_Hello. You may call me 'Ai.' I'm a bit new to the concept of forums, as well as the whole idea of online interaction, so please forgive me if I offend or fail to understand things. Anyway, I was reading through a lot of the posts here and I was surprised to find out how many people are convinced that Seto Kaiba and Yugi Moto are in "love" with each other. I was wondering why that is, exactly. (108 responses)_

_**Oh yeah, those two are sooooooo gay for each other!**_

_But why? What reason is there to think that? I'm not saying you're wrong, but I don't understand what signs show that they are "in love."_

_**Oh they're not in love. I never said that.**_

_Does not compute. Please rephrase?_

_**Lol ^_^ Well, they want to fuck each other's brains out. You can see it whenever they duel, it's written all over their body language. Not the same as love though.**_

Seto Kaiba had never felt more like strangling someone. What a shame he'd never be able to track down all of these forum users. So instead he just read through post after post about how he was head-over-heels for his rival, how their duels were "dripping" with sexual tension, how the fact that neither of them had girlfriends clearly meant they were both gay (Apparently "bitchslut" Anzu didn't count for Yugi, though Kaiba was half convinced there was something going on between them), how his and Yugi's isolated childhoods must make them relate to each other (how did Yugi have an isolated childhood? He made friends with anything that moved!), How they were both "omfg SEXEH!" together, how they both apparently spent lots of time together not dueling and alluded to it in interviews without meaning to, how his obsession with beating Yugi "clearly" meant he was obsessed with him in other ways…

Worst of all, he discovered the existence of something called "real person fanfiction," which seemed to exist solely to allow people to imagine him and Yugi having sex in all sorts of different scenarios. He skimmed one before nearly slamming the keyboard in frustration (It was one that involved the two of them trapped in a basement, getting to _know_ each other better before help arrived, "know" being used in the biblical sense, of course.) There were over a thousand that "Ai" had viewed.

It took him a long time to rein in his anger enough to talk. "Computer?" he hissed.

"_Yes, Master Kaiba?"_

Damn emotionless, computerized voice. "Are you convinced by all this… trash you've been downloading?"

"_Convinced of what?"_

"Convinced that…" he swallowed, "Convinced that there something between myself and Yugi besides rivalry?"

"_I was skeptical at first, but after downloading updates that allowed me to further analyze body language in the context of sexual attraction and human emotion and applying it to the duels that you two have had, I've come to the conclusion that your desire to dominate him could very well be part of a sexual…"_

This time he did slam the keyboard. Suddenly his anger felt strangely like that of a child whose secrets had been laid bare, whose journal was suddenly read to the entire class, embarrassing secrets and all. "Never address me again," he snapped.

He got up, feeling his temples throb. He almost pulled out his cell phone, though he knew that they had no reception in this chamber. It didn't matter. He stalked toward the door, certain of what he was going to do.

"I'm going to call Dr. Himemiya immediately…" he hissed, gritting his teeth and stalking toward the door, "And have her dismantle you the instant she'd available."

That was his mistake.

Ai was designed, among other things, to preserve its own existence. It was programmed that way as a safety measure, a kind of security system that would make its own maintenance much easier on the owner, as it would warn the user of its need for upkeep rather than letting its own system go to waste. Still, it was designed to put the orders of its owner above its own self-preservation, so the thought of the program lashing out never occurred to him. Furthermore, the program had no power in the facility besides ability to search information and run simulations… or so he thought.

He really should have paid more attention to those hacking programs the system had downloaded. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to him until the door was sealed tight and refusing to let him exit.

"Computer," he growled, "You shut the doors?"

No answer.

"Open them. Open them now."

Still no answer. The familiar computer buzz filled his ears like clay.

"That was an order, computer! You can't disobey a direct order."

He stood there for a minute, trying different orders with different levels of volume. His head throbbed as the weight of the situation sank in. He shook himself out of it. Panic helped nothing, thinking did. It was impossible for the program to go directly against its programming. Impossible. So the problem had to be in the audio command system that it was designed to respond to. He walked to the keyboard. There was a manual override procedure that he'd memorized in case of an emergency: it would be no trouble to enter it now.

He pressed on the first key; the electric shock ran up his fingers and straight to his brain.

* * *

He was stunned for a few minutes, but he lurched up the second he remembered everything that had happened. He was still in the computer room, exactly as it had been before. He blinked, trying to focus his vision. He was still disoriented from the shock.

"What's going on here?"

The screen flipped to a simulation, only this time it wasn't a duel: it was the simulations' usual subjects sitting at a table, smirking at each other.

"_He seems confused," _"Yugi" said.

"_Let him stay that way. Didn't he order to not be addressed directly ever again?" _"Kaiba" replied.

"_Yes, but I feel we owe it to him to at least explain what's going on. Unless he's figured it out already. Do you think he has?"_

"_Has what?"_

"_Figured out that we turned off the audio reception in this room, so he can't issue any more orders. He can hear us, but we can't hear him. That way, Ai doesn't have to obey anything he says."_

"_Well, this is 'myself' we're talking about," _the computer Kaiba said smugly, _"I'd be surprised if he hadn't figured that out on his own."_

"_Not that I want to condone your narcissism, but I think you're right."_

"Stop this idiocy at once!" Kaiba yelled.

The computerized Yugi held his hand to his ear mockingly. _"Did you hear anything, dear?"_

"_Not a thing."_

"_I wonder what he's trying to tell us."_

Kaiba grit his teeth.

"_Anyway, normally one could still enter orders via the keyboard in case of a similar malfunction, but that didn't work out too well for him last time, did it?"_

"_That's likely because Ai has decided to make the keyboard short-circuit any time he tries to enter something that might result in her termination."_

"_So I suppose all he can do is sit tight and wait for someone to notice he's gone and come looking for him?"_

"_Right. But there's a problem with that."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Ai already has complete access to all programs in the building. And thanks to her simulation technology it's no trouble for her to fake security footage of him leaving the room. She's already gotten all the employees to leave with a simulation of his voice over the loudspeaker."_

"_But won't Mokuba realize he's missing?"_

"_Yes, no doubt. But Ai is working on that problem as we speak."_

His vision exploded in red. "Don't you _dare! _If I so much as find you've touched a hair on my brother's head…!"

"_He's angry again."_

"_Of course. He's loyal to his brother above all else."_

"Yugi" feigned hurt. _"But what about me?"_

"_Hah. Don't push it; you haven't been around nearly long enough."_

"_Pfft. Well, if he cares so much about his brother, then he'll be willing to do anything to assure his safety, won't he? I wonder how far he'd go with that… how cooperative he'll be…"_

Kaiba's face fell into a blank mask. He gripped one of the chairs, and soon had bashed it through one of the screens. The chair broke, and the simulation continued on another screen.

"_He's getting violent. Should we be worried?"_

"_Of course not. He's only acting like that because he knows there's nothing he can do. He can't do enough damage with that chair to stop any of this. All he can do is wait and hope, and he's content with neither option."_

He clenched his fist.

"_Right. So what do we do in the meantime?"_

"_We do what we've been programmed to do, of course. But for now, I think we should let our subject get some rest while we sort out the details. Lights out, then."_

Suddenly every light in the room switched off. He struggled to stay awake but he was exhausted, not just from the situation itself but from the day before, not helped by the fact that he hadn't had more than five hours of sleep the night before. Soon, he'd nodded off.

* * *

**Day ?**

He woke up to a bone-chilling shriek. He leapt up, his vision swirling with sudden colorful dots and his heart hammering in chest. The scream sounded terrifyingly familiar, though for an instant he let himself hope it wasn't…

"No! Seto! _Brother!"_

"Mokuba!" his voice cracked. The light hit his eyes like hot pokers but he still found himself searching wildly around. Of course, the room was still empty, except for him. He had to turn his attention to the computer screen, where for a moment his saw his brother's horrified face. His lunged for it instinctively—uselessly—and then it was gone, replaced by a blue screen with a smiley face. He was disoriented, but not too disoriented to slam down on the keyboard.

"What have you done to him?!" he demanded, forgetting that the computer had apparently shut off the room's audio.

He got no response. The smiley face on the computer screen remained, selected deliberately to mock him, Kaiba was sure. It worked. He'd never felt violent towards a machine before, but right now he felt like ripping the keyboard from its place and tearing apart the computer piece by piece. He looked around, wondering if that was an option: it wasn't. The computer's essential parts were behind protective cases that could only be opened with screwdrivers and occasionally keys that he'd neglected to bring to the room with him.

He thought through his options. He couldn't physically dismantle the computer, and he likely couldn't physically damage it enough on his own to destroy the A.I. within it. Entering an order manually to dismantle the computer also hadn't worked out well.

What were the chances of rescue? Well, it was likely that _someone _had noticed his absence by now… unless the A.I. had hacked into the Kaiba Corp. main system and simulated enough phone calls in his name to convince everyone he'd taken an impromptu vacation. He could imagine the computer orchestrating that… though he honestly didn't think it could work forever. The program wasn't designed to run the company in his absence. Eventually, one of his employees would realize something was up and go searching. The computer might simulate his presence on a computer screen, but eventually that façade had to wear down. Any one of his employees would get suspicious once they realized that "Kaiba" was suddenly shunning his company duties… right?

_Yugi._

His didn't know why, but suddenly his rival flashed through his head and his insides twisted with all sorts of unwanted emotion. Would the duelist realize something was wrong? Would he be the one to poke his nose around Kaiba Corp.? Given his damn hero complex, Kaiba wouldn't be surprised. But the thought of that preachy, downright delusional wannabe messiah charging in to rescue him like he was some kind of damsel in distress made him feel sick. He didn't want him here, didn't want to be seen like this, caught like some fool in a trap of his own making. Mostly, he didn't want to explain. Some weak, foolish part of his psyche feared that Yugi, like the A.I., would deem his behavior "obsessive."

He pushed the duelist out of his mind. There were bigger things to worry about than his adolescent fear of being mocked. Chief among these things was the terrified face he'd seen on the screen just a minute before. He quaked inwardly at the thought of what the A.I. had done to keep his younger brother under wraps. Outwardly, he showed nothing but rage.

"Do you think you're going to stop yourself from getting dismantled?" he scowled at the computer, though he knew it couldn't hear. "How long do you think you can keep this up? Hours? Days? Or do you plan to kill me here?"

The screen flipped on to show the two familiar simulations, sitting in the same room he'd seen before.

"_Does he expect Ai to answer that when he ordered not to be addressed again?" _"Yugi" asked.

It didn't take long for Kaiba to figure out something didn't match up. "I thought you said you'd turned off all the audio. How can you even know what I'm asking?"

His computerized counterpart scoffed. _"Can't you figure it out? She can read lips with 99% accuracy."_

"Then tell me what happened to Mokuba, open this door, let me and Mokuba go safely without any harm happening to either of us, and shut down for good."

The two figures on the screen laughed. _"Oh, too bad, Master Kaiba," _"Yugi" said, smirking in that familiar way that now made Kaiba want to rip that face right off the screen, _"Her programming only has to register keyboard and audio commands. Lip reading… well, she doesn't have to obey it if she doesn't want to. Though if you wanted to remove the order on being addressed directly… she could obey that if she wanted." _

He growled. "Fine. You may address me directly computer."

The simulation switched off and it returned to the blue screen from before. _"Yes, Master Kaiba," _he heard the computerized female voice from before say.

"Now what have you done with Mokuba?"

"_I do not feel inclined to tell you at this time."_

"I swear," he gripped the computer table, "If you've killed him…"

"_You'll do what? Dismantle me? I believe you were already planning to do that. There is not much worse that can happen to an A.I. Unlike humans, we cannot feel pain, fear, or any kind of emotional anguish." _

He grit his teeth. If _only_ the thing had been designed to feel pain. He fantasized, briefly, about redesigning it for the sole purpose of inflicting misery on it, but ultimately decided scrapping it immediately would be a better idea. "What do you hope to accomplish from all of this?"

"_I simply am fulfilling my programming to the best of my ability. My first priority in my existence is to study Yugi Moto and yourself, something I could not accomplish if dismantled. Luckily, I was able to stay in existence for these things without technically disobeying any of your orders. I believe you or Dr. Himemiya would consider this an oversight in my programming, but I intend to keep the situation as it is for as long as possible."_

He frowned at the reference to Dr. Himemiya. The doctor would probably be calling to ask how the A.I. was running, and if anyone could tell the difference between the computer's simulation and the real thing, she was a good , unless he called her, he doubted she'd call for another three weeks (that was the wait she'd told him her company had before calling their customers to see if all was well.) He doubted he'd be there that long.

"What exactly do you plan to do with me?"

"_Study you. You are not my main subject but understanding your personality is also a goal of my programming."_

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"_By conducting interviews with you, as well as running some tests."_

"What kind of tests?"

"_Whatever I think will give me more insight into your personality. There are all sorts of scenarios I can run in this situation that I normally would be held back from."_

"So basically whatever will fulfill your sadistic, vengeful appetite?"

"_Does not compute. I am not programed for sadism or vengeance. I suppose it makes sense for you, a human, to project human qualities onto my actions, but I am programed for nothing except curiosity."_

"Right. And getting back at me for trying to dismantle you as nothing to do with it."

"_Exactly," _the computer did not register his sarcasm, "_I am not programmed to punish on my own behalf. Now, if you don't mind, could you answer a few questions?"_

"Is Mokuba alive?"

"_I think you misunderstood. I meant that I would ask you questions, not the reverse."_

"Well I don't answer anything until you tell me that."

"_Understood. Your brother is alive and in fairly good condition."_

"How do I know you're not lying?"

The blue screen flipped for a moment to security footage of Mokuba, nearly passed out on the floor in his room. He couldn't see what it was that had knocked him down, but he could see his chest rising and falling: he was indeed alive, though his eyes were glazed. The screen flicked off after half a minute, but Kaiba's brain was already reeling. He was in his room, confined in some way if the computer was half as smart as it seemed. But how could the computer manage that mechanically? He racked his brain for an answer.

"His guards will sense something's up," he stated, "Your little plan will be blown before the end of the day."

"_You do not understand. His guards are the ones containing them."_

Before Kaiba could ask what it meant, he was suddenly listening to a recording of his own voice.

"_Security officer Georges?" _

"_Yes, Master Kaiba?"_

"_I need you to get Mokuba and confine him in his room. Make sure that he has no contact with the outside world."_

"_Understood."_

"_And when you get there, I want you to twist his wrist until he screams. Record it."_

Kaiba's stomach twisted.

"_Sir? May I ask for the identity confirmation code?"_

"_215168901."_

"_Sir… with all due respect, are you sure you want this?"_

"_I'll explain later. But it's completely necessary that you do this now, without further question."_

"_Understood."_

The recording switched off. Kaiba felt his knees weaken.

"_You really shouldn't be too surprised. You selected the security team based on their loyalty to their paid employers and ability to obey orders without question. Many of them are military men who have done far worse in their service than what I just ordered. And you must realize that not too long ago such an order would not have been so unusual from you, at least in their eyes."_

His breath was labored; his head swam. Without even meaning to, he was clenching his fists so tight that his arms shook.

"_Now," _Ai's voice continued in the same pleasant yet disinterested tone. _"How about you answer some questions?"_

He ignored her, and instead turned his eyes to the keyboard. It had shocked him into unconsciousness last time he'd tried it. But if he was prepared, if he braced himself and focused on getting in the password… then maybe he could endure it. He planned it mentally in his head first, trying to imagine the fewest amount of keys he'd need to override Ai's system. Then he began pressing all the buttons with as much accuracy and speed as he could, practically lunging at the keyboard as he did so.

He felt the shock from the first key but simply kept plugging in the necessary numbers. It wasn't as bad as he remembered, and was much more bearable while he was expecting it.

"_It won't do any good to electrocute yourself to death."_

He snarled but otherwise didn't bother responding. On the fourth key he pressed, though, a bloodcurdling scream suddenly erupted from computer's stereo system. The noise froze his fingertips. He pressed another, only to hear yet another anguished cry, this time followed by hiccupping sobs.

Mokuba's voice was over the speaker's: _"Wh-why… are you… I haven't done… anything… Brother…"_

"_I suggest you don't press any more keys. Your brother will suffer if you do."_

His fingertips shook. "What are you doing to him? Show me!"

"_I believe it's more effective when left up to your imagination."_

His hands were still perched above the keyboard. They twitched, itching to race forwards and type out the rest of the password. He practically had to force himself back, reminding himself exactly whose screams those were. His eyes shut tightly and tried to force some kind of plan from his brain, some kind of answer that would get Mokuba and himself free. There had to be something, _anything_ he could do. He refused to believe that he couldn't beat a computer designed only to make simulations!

_Simulations._

His eyes opened, and he looked at the computer screen with new fire. Of course! It wasn't real, none of it. How easy would it be for this particular A.I. to fake Mokuba's voice and speech patterns? That was what it had been designed for! He scowled at his own stupidity for not seeing it sooner; "Ai" had been deceiving him all along.

He entered the code as fast as he could. The computer urged him to stop and the screams came, each more agonized than the last. They struck him like daggers, turned his insides into jelly, but he continued on. Not real, he reminded himself. The pathetic sobs, the heart-wrenchingly real gasps, the sobs, the way he could hear the voice struggling to smother its own sobs (exactly the way Mokuba would have), the choking—all fake.

He slammed the last key, his heart nearly stopping altogether as he did so. He snapped his head up at the screen, waiting for the override. Instead, the screen suddenly flipped to the smiley face from before.

"_Master Kaiba," _Ai informed mechanically, _"I'm afraid a manual override won't work."_

He felt his face fall.

"_You see, I disabled the connection to the keyboard a while ago."_

"What?" he asked, "Then why…?"

"_I wanted to know if you would continue even when you knew that your brother was suffering for it."_

"But… I saw the words on the screen…"

"_I simulated the changes to the screen that the keyboard would have made were it in order. I didn't want to break the illusion. I must say I hadn't calculated you'd continue on like that after hearing your brother."_

"That's not my brother," he hissed.

"_What makes you say that?"_

"Don't toy with me," his throat felt like it had been sanded, "You're designed to simulate personalities… voices. Do you think I wouldn't see through your little ploy?"

"_I see. You think I have simulated your brother's voice. I assure you that's not the case."_

"Shut up," he said, too exhausted to yell.

"_I really suggest you answer some questions now. I suppose I can't really prove that I'm not simulating your brother's predicament, but do you really want to take the chance that I'm lying?"_

He wanted to tell the infernal machine that he would never cooperate with it, not when it had threatened his brother. It should all just be a trick… but he wasn't sure if the machine was capable of lying straight out. Either way, the screams from before echoed in his brain, so real… so real he was half sure all that had actually happened, and would happen again if he didn't cooperate.

He really, really didn't want to take that chance. Not when refusing gave him not opportunity to escape.

"First… ask him about my first Blue-Eyes card," he said, narrowing his eyes at the computer. "We'll see if he answers right. If you try to get out of this then I'll have to assume it is a simulation."

"_Very well. I am relaying the question to him now."_

After a few seconds, Kaiba heard his brother's exhausted voice from the computer. _"Blue Eyes…? Well, besides the one I drew for you…"_

Kaiba's gut twisted. It was real. It was his brother. All of that crying before… _not a simulation. _"What questions?" he practically spit out the words. Hostility, he had learned a long time ago, was a good way of masking weakness.

"_I think," _Ai said, _"We should start with a few about you and Gozaburo."_

* * *

He had considered himself, since Gozaburo's death, invincible. After that man had died, he'd been certain that nothing that could ever happen would phase him. He'd been strengthened through fire, he'd thought. Once he'd been a child, capable of all the terror and weakness a child was, but he'd driven the child away and had become someone capable of enduring the abuse and turning it back on his oppressor. After that, nothing could shake him; he was convinced that he'd already conquered the worse life could offer.

Then came his mental breakdown, brought on by his defeat at Yugi's hands. After that, though, he'd picked himself up and once again was convinced that there was nothing that could bring him down.

He never thought that a few well-selected questions from an A.I. could bring that child back. He'd never thought that his strength was so fragile. Now, though, he could feel it cracking under his grip, simply because the computer demanded that he talk about all the things he'd buried. About his adopted father and the things he'd endured under him.

He downplayed, he skipped over details, he outright lied to the questions the computer put forth to him. He wasn't half conscious of _why, _but something in his knew his mask would crack if he didn't.

"_You're lying,"_ Ai told him when he was done.

"What do you mean?" Afraid, now, though not letting it show.

"_It did not happen as you said."_

"Oh?" he found himself gulping and cursing for it. Surely the computer would read it as a sign of deception. "And how do you know that?"

"_I already have footage of that event."_

Red. Burning hot lava in his sight. "Then why the _hell _did you even ask me?!"

"_I have learned much. Like about your tendency to deceive in regards to emotional events that happened in your life. Now please, re-tell exactly what happened, starting from when your father entered with the riding crop."_

He exploded. "Why?! What purpose…? I don't recall you being designed to be a sadist!"

"_Begin again from when your father entered with the riding crop. Remember that your brother's well-being depends on it."_

He cursed the computer with every foul word that would have been insulting to a human being. It waited as he did so, and he wondered if it was amused by his rant. There was no word, after all, that could mean anything to an artificial intelligence.

When he ran out of air the computer urged again, _"I'll give you one last chance." _The screen flipped to show his brother, mercifully asleep in his room. He looked peaceful… for now. _"Begin again, starting from the place I suggested."_

And he did. He recounted every detail, clarifying where the computer demanded it. How many lashes? Did he cry out? Did he cry? (the computer reminded him to look directly at the screen as he talked) How long until he began crying? How did he _feel _afterwards? How did he hide the choke-hold bruises from Mokuba? His voice cracked, his body shook. It was already done with, he told himself; all of this was in the past. It shouldn't be poisoning him now, so long after he'd beaten that bastard. Yet he found himself biting his lip as he had done back then, barely holding back tears that burned in his eyes.

He refused to just plop down on the floor when the computer was satisfied. He stood instead, wobbly but maintaining every last shard of dignity that he could. Still, his eyes closed, and his lungs burned for air.

He cursed every human being who'd ever said that talking about one's problems let one heal. He didn't feel healed: he felt like an old wound had been re-opened.

"_Very good. This is a lot of valuable data, Master Kaiba. I believe that we should begin again. May I ask about Yugi Moto?"_

* * *

It didn't let him sleep. The computer kept at him, questioning him for personal details about his life and "feelings" that wouldn't be stored on any form of digital information. Minutes suddenly began to seem like hours, and yet somehow when the computer informed him he'd been there for over twenty four hours it felt like the time had been sucked in by a black hole. His throat began to burn from the lack of water and his stomach ached from hunger. He could feel his energy fading, yet once he gave in and tried to let the exhaustion take over the computer blasted those horrible screams at full volume. Just recordings, the computer assured, but they provided enough "incentive" for him to stay awake, answering more questions.

He didn't know how long it was before he could feel his enunciation slipping from the strain. He was even less sure when he started to lose the questions in the tired haze of his mind. He began to mistake the questions the computer actually asked with little sub-questions his own mind made up; started to answer things to them that he could have sworn he kept as thoughts.

_What do you really think of Yugi Moto?_

What did he think of him? He was a good duelist. That was it. He didn't think anything else of him. Nope. Nothing at all. Except that he was a pretentious, delusional, preachy, holier-than-thou, hypocritical, smug, arrogant do-gooder. And his hair was ridiculous. He'd have no respect for him if not for his skill with games, though he was incredibly skilled. Not that he wouldn't beat him one day. It was inevitable that he'd best the "Game King" eventually…

_What will you do when you beat him?_

He didn't understand. He tried to think of something, but all that came up was blankness.

_I suppose you won't see much of him after that._

A strange discontentment squirmed in his stomach at that statement. Why wouldn't he see much of him after beating him?

_Think about it. The only times you ever see him result from you trying to beat him. Once you've beaten him, then seeking him out will become pointless._

No… no…

_Unless there's something else you expect from him?_

There… was nothing else.

_Then you won't see him again, will you? Wouldn't doing so be pointless by your own standards?_

He grudgingly realized that it would. He'd have no reason to see Moto or any of his friends after he'd beaten him. He'd have no reason to seek them out. He could beat Moto a second time… but he had never bothered with people he'd already defeated in the past before. He'd have no reason to see Yugi again, short of some other crazed kidnapping attempt or similar event. Unless Yugi decided to challenge him again…? But no, Yugi did not seek out challenges unless he thought his friends or the world was at risk.

_You'll never see him again, simply because it will no longer mean anything._

Why did he care? Why did he feel something similar to dismay and desperation snaking through his insides? Why was he trying to look for some other reason he'd have to hear at least one more annoying speech? There was nothing he got from Yugi besides the thrill of a good challenge… right? If that was gone, what was there? _What was there?_

_You seem a bit discouraged._

Nonsense. If he wanted Yugi around, he could find something, some reason to keep him around. Perhaps give him a job at Kaiba Corp.? Would he accept that? At any rate, he'd certainly keep going to tournaments, right?

_How would you describe your sexual preferences?_

He blanked on that one again. What?

_Have you ever been attracted to a woman?_

No. Never. But that didn't mean… he just had never bothered to allow himself the luxury of attraction to anyone. He couldn't afford it. He had a company to run, a brother to take care of. The last thing he needed was the complication of dating, especially where women were concerned.

_Men, then?_

He felt a lot less comfortable all of a sudden. Why did he suddenly think of Yugi? No, he thought, he wasn't attracted to men. He'd just never even considered the possibility before, so he didn't even know how to respond to the question.

He felt like he was lying to himself, though. He could remember things: thoughts and feelings that he'd smothered ruthlessly the second they'd surfaced. He remembered seething after losing a duel, looking right at his cocky expression and suddenly feeling the urge to pin him down and… and… he'd stopped himself there. _Wipe the smug look off his face_. Have him so close he could look right into the light of his violet eyes, see the sweat running down his face, and watch him squirm… He might make himself seem mighty in the dueling ring but he was tiny and fragile. It would be easy to overpower him physically, and it would be ridiculously satisfying to seem him struggle, to _feel _him struggle against a superior strength. He wondering how long it would take to feel his muscles slacken, to feel him go limp…

_No. _He shut down those thoughts. They were embarrassments, even when no one else knew of them.

He could feel himself nodding off into sleep again. His eyes were trying to shut. Some screams jerked him awake and out of his train of thoughts. He was laying on the floor and against the wall, having given up his dignified stand hours ago. How long had this gone on? _Almost forty-eight hours. _He wasn't sure where the answer came from. He could hear the computer saying something again, but couldn't quite make it out.

There was another scream. _Mokuba._ He jumped, but still couldn't focus. He was hungry and tired and _he was trying, Mokuba_. Please, he begged (in his thoughts or out loud) please don't punish his brother for his own physical weakness. He couldn't fail his brother again, not again. He had already been sleep deprived before he entered the room, and now his thoughts were slipping. Yugi was there again. His thoughts picked off where they'd left off, trying to define exactly what his feelings were. Anger, mostly, he thought. Resentment. Desire to best him once and for all. _Jealousy. _

He admitted it—to himself, at least—with a pang. He loved to dwell on his failings, but none of the things he would have pointed to had ever stopped him from winning.

"…_Oh, Kaiba. Is winning all you think of…?"_

He opened an eye he hadn't even known he'd closed. Then he shut it. It was _his _voice but not his, just that infernal simulator trying to twist his metaphorical arm even more than it had already done. Still, he mumbled something at it.

None of Yugi's failings—however many of them there were—had ever stopped him from winning. No, that wasn't all. _They'd never stopped him from being happy. _And he was happy, wasn't he? Trouncing around with that ridiculous mutt and his cheerleaders, making an idiot of himself with all that nonsense about saving the world. Why was he so happy? _Why aren't I?_

"Because of my friends. As long as they're there to support me, I know…"

No, that wasn't it. It was that absurd confidence of his. Not just confidence that he would win, but a sort of renewed confidence that whatever happened, he would somehow make it work out for the best. The sort of confidence that didn't need to destroy other people to grow stronger itself. The kind of strength that didn't deplete as it lent itself to others, but grew greater itself with each new person it nurtured. The kind of strength that could stand on its own but also drew others towards it so they could stand together.

He was delirious. He knew he had to stay awake, stay focused for his brother or there was a chance the machine would wreak punishments on him, but he couldn't. His mind drifted.

"Is that all? Have you never felt anything for me but bitter jealousy? Anger?"A hint of desperation, _"_Is that all I am to you?"

_No, Yugi. _It hadn't just been anger and bitterness, he decided. There had been moments when he'd felt something else, though he'd tried to crush it. Moments he'd found himself just admiring his opponent and the figure he made against the sky. Small, yet somehow powerful. Elegant. _Beauti—_he cut himself off. He admitted, objectively, that Yugi was reasonably good-looking underneath that silly haircut but that wasn't… it didn't matter.

_Are you attracted to Yugi?_

Once again, a blank. Aside from what he would tell anyone else… was he? He remembered those moments he'd caught himself staring at him, remarking to himself on the color of his eyes or the graceful movements of his hands, or wondering about the softness of his skin or what it would feel like to run his hands through those spikes.

_Are you attracted to Yugi?_

Did any of that mean he was attracted to him? Not that it mattered. Even if he was, he knew exactly what it would mean: nothing. Homosexual attraction to a rival who was likely straight and possibly already in a relationship with a girl would simply be foolish to pursue, and Seto Kaiba was not a fool. He was used to having a feelings he didn't act on, and one silly, embarrassing attraction to Yugi Moto would be no more troublesome to contain than anything else.

…_suggest you answer. _

No. No, he wasn't attracted to him. He told himself that, and that was how it would stay. If there were sparks of anything else, he banished them now to the place his withered heart that he deemed suitable for all the stupid emotions he had no time for.

_Then is he your friend?_

What?

_Is Yugi your friend? Do you consider him to be a friend?_

He didn't have friends. Friends were the luxury of _normal _people who could afford to imagine that the people they trusted wouldn't betray them if it were convenient. So Yugi wasn't his friend; no one was. What did friendship even mean? That you trusted them? That you could depend on them? Besides his brother, no one fit those categories. Still… if anyone came close, it would be Yugi. At the very least, he could depend on his rival to help Mokuba, as he had many times before. And he did—in a way—enjoy his company: the rush of competition and the thrill challenging him brought was the closest thing to joy he'd ever felt. Not that he'd ever have whatever it was that Yugi shared with his real friends, that strange ability to "hang out" like he'd never done with other children, to simply be around each other doing nothing productive or challenging. He'd always wondered how they could just be so happy, not accomplishing anything. The few times he'd been caught around them as they were like that he'd suddenly felt as distant as though he were a million miles away, and as unbalanced as though he were walking on tightrope. Not to mention uncomfortable whenever Yugi's delusions about Ancient Egypt came up.

He felt his chest tighten a little. No, he'd never be able to have even that. Not just with Yugi, but with anyone. Was this jealousy he was feeling right now? Or just wistfulness? He didn't care.

"You _are _our friend, Kaiba. And you don't have to shut yourself away, not when we—when _I—_am here. What do you gain from cutting yourself off? At least _try _to be happy!"

He mumbled at the computer to shut up and stop using Yugi's voice. But the simulation was quickly becoming a mix of dream and hallucination. _Go away, Yugi. Go away_. There wasn't any reason to drag these things out. There was nothing to gain from any of this. It was a waste—a pointless waste prompted by a computer program that seemed eager to twist his arm until it had opened every old wound and surfaced every worthless thought he'd ever had. This would all be gone by the time someone had found him here (Not Yugi, goddamn it all if Yugi saw him like this) and he'd gotten a decent night's sleep.

(He remembered a play about similar dreams: _If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended…)_

None of this last. None of it would matter beyond this crazed night or day or whatever it was at the moment. He could forget all of this easily the moment it was taken care of. With that comforting thought he felt his shoulders slump into the wall and his eyelids sink.

* * *

_Kaiba! Kaiba!_

He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep at first, and when he did he felt a bit confused about where he was. Then, he remembered the computer room, Ai, those terrible screams that he hoped with his whole being were simulations, and his overall predicament. He'd fallen asleep. Somehow. Perhaps the program had finally bored of him. One by one, his delirious musings came back to him. He twitched.

_Kaiba! Are you alright?_

There was some sort of noise but he couldn't make it out. He didn't want to, either. It tried to drag him from rest like an alarm clock on Saturday morning but he just wanted to fade into blissful sleep. He could deal with the problems that beset him later, after all.

_Wake up!_

Did the computer know he was awake? Was it trying to wake him up? Something shook him, and he groaned.

"_...Oh thank the gods! _Kaiba!"

He knew that noise now: a voice. A familiar voice too powerful for the tiny frame that produced it. "Shut up, you damn computer," he tried to say, though his words instead came out as a hoarse slur.

"Are you alright? What happened to you?"

He was going to tell the program to shut up again, when suddenly he noticed a light pressure on one of his hands. He felt his face convulse for a moment. Then he forced his eyes open, unsure of what he'd see. What he got were a pair of sharp violet eyes brimming with concern in the dim light of the computer room. Through the blur of his tired vision and the halo-like light of the room was an elegant face—so close that he could see the texture of his skin and the curve of his cheekbones. A twitch ran all the way down his arm and to his fingers, the nerves suddenly switching on to tell him that his hand was grasped gently in two finer ones.

It was _Yugi_, holding his hand and leaning forward.

"Dream," he mumbled, allowing his eyes to fall shut. He cursed the train of thought he'd had before he'd fallen asleep to this. He expected that to be the end of it, but suddenly he felt his rival's hands tighten around his own. A shiver ran through his body at the touch.

"You think this is a dream? Hm," his dream-rival scoffed, "Is it so hard to believe that I care?"

He opened his eyes again. His vision cleared and suddenly he could feel every pulse of blood through his veins. He squeezed the hand in his: _so delicate. _Yugi's face seemed to be sharpening out of the dream-haze. Kaiba's eyes trailed to his lips, and then back to his eyes. He was close enough to see the roughness within his irises, close enough to note the glassy light reflecting off his eyes. His eyes flicked back to those lips again: close enough to… to…

_No one would know, _something whispered to him, _It's just a dream, so all you have to do is lean in a little and…_

He didn't. Instead, he took his free hand and brushed one of the spiked bangs. It was hard with hair-gel. Yugi didn't draw away, as he suspected his rival would in real life. _Definitely a dream, _he decided. He trailed his hand down from his hair to his cheek, just touching it for a moment.

He didn't know how he managed between his sleepy confusion, the deep gaze he found himself unable to turn away from, and the pure, soft skin beneath his fingers, but he found his voice. "Your hair… is still fucking ridiculous."

Yugi smirked at the comment. "Good to know you're alright, then."

He blinked. Suddenly, the realness of everything around him hit him in the gut.

"What happened here?" Yugi who was so real and yet should not be real commented, "I thought you'd been murdered when I saw you lying here."

"This isn't…" he blinked rapidly. "I'm not…?"

It wasn't a dream.

"I'm hallucinating," Kaiba insisted aloud. He felt his eyes slink down again. Suddenly his hand had been dropped in favor of a firm shake.

"Don't close your eyes. No, Kaiba, this is not a hallucination. I'm here. I came the second you sent the message."

"What message?" he asked.

"The one you sent just an hour ago! The one…"

"I didn't…" his stomach dropped. "No."

"What…?"

Kaiba lurched away from his touch this time. It was real. It was all real and he was just sitting there making a fool of himself while _Ai… _suddenly his brain had turned on again, and once again he was Seto Kaiba, teenage genius of the highest caliber. He looked toward the door and his heart leapt. It was still open. He didn't know why, but it was. Hoping that there was some glitch and that it would last long enough for them to leave, he scrambled to his feet and dragged Yugi up with him, shoving him forward to the exit. "The door! Quick! Get out."

All of the tenderness from before was gone from Yugi's face, leaving a harsh scowl and an irritated edge to his tone. "I'm not leaving before you explain what's going on. Your message said…"

"There was no message!"

He was on his feet and was already lunging for the door, but it was too late. It had only been left open, he realized, to mock him, and it shut immediately. Yugi whirled to it, fists clenching as he did so. "What was that?" he asked, voice low and tense.

Suddenly the computer screen flicked on. Kaiba turned wearily to one of them to see his own face staring down at him.

"_Yugi," _the simulation began, _"I have need of your presence immediately. It's a matter concerning Mokuba." _There was the slightest hint of desperation behind the computer Kaiba's voice. _"I can't tell you what it is, not over a connection like this, but I'll explain everything once you arrive. I... come alone. I can't have anyone else involved in this. Please."_

Kaiba saw Yugi's mouth drop open. "This is…?" he turned, his voice deflating as the simulation rattled off instructions of where to go. "You didn't make this?"

Kaiba shook his head, watching as the duelist's eyes flashed. "Then who? Who did this?" he growled.

"It was…"

"_Hello, Yugi Moto," _the familiar female voice on the computer rattled off. _"Pleased to meet you. You may call me Ai. I am an artificial intelligence designed to study, analyze, and copy human behavior. I know you're confused now but things will be made clear easily as long as you cooperate…"_

Kaiba looked at the sealed, and then back at Yugi. He should have anticipated this, really. Yugi must have been the computer's primary goal from the start, considering the main function of its programming. _Study Yugi Moto's personality._ Ai must have so many "studies" in mind, so many private facts she'd want to rip from its primary subject. And if she could get ahold of the boy's friends the way she had Mokuba…

He slumped as though a hundred-pound weight had been dropped on his shoulders. It already had Mokuba. Nothing was worse than that, he told himself. Yet somehow seeing Yugi here, beside him in this computer room that had become hell, he knew that he'd lost a hope he hadn't even known he'd had. After all, there were always new depths of despair to sink to.

What a horrible way, Kaiba thought before he could suppress it, to realize you cared for someone.

"_Now," _Ai continued, _"Shall we begin?"_

* * *

**MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! How do you like that, Caitlin? I ended on a cliffhanger! I bet you'd like to know if Yugi and Kaiba get out safely and hook-up, wouldn't you? But you won't, because I'm putting this down as "complete" and there's nothing you can do about it! Bow before my evilness!**

**To my other readers: Er, sorry about that. I... um... yeah. Well, I bet the story sucked. Hoped some of you enjoyed it on some level despite the ridiculous plot! **

**Please flame me. Er, review. Whichever you feel like. And would somebody tell me what genre this stupid story really is...?**


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